


Sansa and Jon Snow

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [88]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: Sansa can't believe it. Sansa can't accept it. Jon Snow, her true love and King, just can't be gone. And so she prays and prays. Because if the Lord of Light can bring people back from the death, so can the old Gods. Right?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsa Week [88]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576145
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: JonsaWeek2019





	Sansa and Jon Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 4 of Jonsa Week 2019 based on the prompt Myths

This couldn’t be happening.

Sansa shook her head over and over again while she stared at the lifeless naked body of Jon, resting on the wooden table.

Ghost lay protectively underneath the table, as if he too refused to accept that his Jon Snow, his master, his best friend, was gone.

“He can’t be dead. He just can’t be. It’s impossible.” She straightened her back and lifted her chin and then she turned around. She walked through the courtyard, where people kept on working as if nothing was going on, as if their King in the North wasn’t dead and gone. She walked through the Godswood, where the deafening silence drummed in her ears.

Once she stood in front of the heart tree she banged her fist on the solid wood, ignoring the splinters piercing her skin. “Bring him back!” Her scream echoed all around her. “If that stupid Lord of Light can do it, so can you!” She banged on the holy wood once more and yelled as loud as she could. “You can’t take him from me!”

The earth beneath her feet started trembling and shaking. Her lungs struggled for breath, but all the oxygen disappeared from the air around her. She wrapped her arms around her throat and then she screamed again when the ground beneath her all of a sudden disappeared and she started falling.

She fell and fell and fell and fell and when she finally reached the bottom the hard landing knocked her out for what could have been a few seconds or a few hours and everything in between.

“Sansa Stark?”

She looked up and stared at the hand stretched out towards her.

Its skin color wasn’t entirely human. Its fingers were a little too long and too bony and a shiver rolled down Sansa’s spine.

“I will bring you to my master.”

When Sansa looked for a face she saw unnaturally green eyes staring at her. The girl, she at least assumed it was a girl, wore branches in her hair like it were braided crowns and her entire face had something earth-like. “Who are you?”

“That’s not important right now.” The creature shook her head and impatiently she moved her fingers. “You don’t have much time. If the master changes his mind, your King will be gone forever.”

Sansa swallowed and licked her dry lips. But what did she have to lose? Jon was dead. Gone. Ripped from her way before his time. If this was her only chance to get him back, no matter how weird and strange this all seemed, she had to grab it and go for it. Firmly she grabbed the strange hand and much to her surprise the forest creature pulled her up easily, as if she didn’t weigh more than a small feather.

“Follow me.” The creature started running and Sansa had to lift her skirt and take of her high heels to follow in those strange footsteps.

They rushed through a labyrinth of roots and caves. Sometimes they passed other creatures, just like the one she was following, but most of the time it was just the two of them and the echo of their running footsteps.

A piercing pain stung in her side. Her lungs were struggling to keep on breathing. Sansa felt the veins in her neck beating and she heard the soft hushing of her own heartbeat in her ears. Her ankles wobbled dangerously on the uneven ground, but she kept on running and running and running.

Until all of a sudden the creature stood still in front of a wooden throne.

The old man sitting on it seemed more dead than alive and yet his eyes stared at her as if he could see right through her. As if he could see her past, her present, her future. As if he could see her body, her soul and every miserable thought rushing through her mind.

“That was quite an impressive plea.” He smiled, but the smile lacked every human emotion and therefore seemed more scary than comforting. “You had even me moved and I can assure you, that is not an easy task.” He cocked his head slightly and his glance wandered over every inch of her. “How much do you love your King?”

Sansa stepped forward and she fell on her bare knees in front of the old man. “More than I love myself and my own life. He’s my everything. I need him. I can’t live without him.”

Once more the old man smiled. “Bring him in.”

Sansa widened her eyes, but when a few seconds later heavy footsteps walked towards her she allowed herself to look up and stopped breathing. “Jon?” She quickly pushed herself up and rushed towards him.

Surprisingly enough her arms could wrap around him. And even though his skin felt ice and ice cold, it was unmistakably her Jon, in the flesh, standing here before her. His hair seemed messy and he hadn’t shaved lately. His chest was covered in wounds and scars. But it was her Jon.

“What are you doing here?” Jon shook his head while he embraced her and he pressed her to his hard and naked chest.

Sansa felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t know. I screamed and yelled and begged someone to bring you back and…” All of a sudden she stepped back and she stared at the old man on his wooden throne, who waited patiently until Jon and Sansa were done reuniting. “Can I take him back with me? Can I really take him back home?”

The old man nodded. Slowly. But firmly. “You can. If you truly love him and truly trust him to follow you.”

“He will! Of course he will follow me!” Sansa’s heart hammered in her chest and the adrenaline rushed through her veins, reaching even the tips of her toes and fingers. “He would follow me everywhere.”

The old man’s smile brightened. “If he follows you all the way back to his body and if you can walk there without looking over your shoulder even once, not even a little, I will return his soul to his body and grand him another chance.”

“Thank you.” Sansa shook her head and licked her lips. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. No idea.”

“All you have to do is follow the path. The path you have created when coming here.”

In a matter of seconds the old man and his throne disappeared. The creature who had lead her here disappeared. Only she and Jon were left, standing in the middle of the labyrinth of caves and roots. On the floor only the marks of her footsteps were left. The footsteps that would lead her back home. The footsteps that would lead Jon back home.

Sansa reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Do you want to come back with me, Jon?” She whispered and when Jon whispered something that sounded like a yes she started walking, with his hand still firmly in hers.

She concentrated on the trail of footsteps. She walked a lot slower now than she had done on her way here. Carefully she avoided every obstacle and once in a while she asked Jon if he was still allright, standing still until he answered that he was. The further they came, the fainter the prints of her rushing foots were, but Sansa kept on concentrating and kept on walking. And when they reached the hole where she had tumbled down, she discovered that stairs would lead them back to the Tree, to the Godswood.

A little reluctantly she let Jon’s hand go. “Will you follow me, Jon? Even when I’m not holding your hand?”

“I will follow you everywhere, Sansa.”

With a smile on her face Sansa started climbing. Her hand reached for the next step and the next step. Her feet followed. Her bare soles burned and stung, but it didn’t matter, not to Sansa. She was bringing Jon home.

“Sansa!” Jon screamed behind her and she felt the tips of his fingers touching her ankle. “Sansa, please…”

But the warning of the old man on his wooden throne still sounded in her head. She couldn’t look back. If she looked back, if she checked if he was okay, if she peeked if he was still following, she lost her only chance.

Maybe he was falling. Maybe he was no longer following.

But if she would look back, that would no longer matter.

Then he would be gone anyway.

So she kept on climbing. Step by step by step, until her hand reached the edge of the hole and she could pull herself out. Her dress were dirty and mudded. Her feet and hands were bleeding. She didn’t dare to ask if Jon was still behind her, afraid that he wouldn’t say anything anymore, afraid that she would look back and would ruin everything.

Instead she kept on walking. Through the Godswood, where the deafening silence had only grown thicker and thicker. Through the courtyard, where everyone was avoiding her glance, too busy doing their work. Through the hallways of Winterfell, all the way to the room where Jon’s body still laid on the wooden table, Ghost still guarding it with his life.

She didn’t dare to breath when her hands touched his arm and she closed her eyes while she counted. First she counted to ten. Then she counted to a hundred. Then she counted to a thousand.

Jon’s skin still felt cold, but when Sansa searched for a pulse in his wrist she felt something. It was weak. It could just as easily be a product of her own imagination. And once more she prayed and prayed and prayed.

It was Ghost’s loud howl forcing her to open her eyes and her jaw dropped when she saw Jon staring back at her.

He looked a little confused and disorientated, as if he had no idea where he was and how he had gotten here.

But a bright smile spread across Sansa’s face and she wrapped her arms around Jon planning on never letting him go again. “We did it.” She whispered and salted tears dripped on Jon’s naked chest while she realised that she had really done it. She had really brought him back.

“I promised I’d follow you everywhere, Sansa. And I always keep my promises.”


End file.
